


Bar Talk

by Yamx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamx/pseuds/Yamx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An immortal and a Time Lord are sitting in a bar…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bar Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I wrote this before seeing any eps, or even trailers, with the eleventh Doctor. So, while my description of his appearance and clothes is based on canon (well, photos of Matt Smith in costume, at least), the characterization is made up and may seem off if you're reading this after actually having seen Eleven in action.
> 
>  **Betas:** The amazing [Kae_nine](http://kae-nine.livejournal.com/) & [Wendymr](http://wendymr.livejournal.com/).

"Hey, barkeep – another green menace!" Jack shouts. Then he flashes a toothy grin at the Raxacoricofallpatorian sailor sitting to his right. "Nothing personal."

The Raxacoricofallapatorian smiles politely and turns away. Jack's just about to open his mouth for another opening gambit – seems like something more sophisticated might be the way to go here – when the bar stool to his left is pulled back and a young man – human, or human-looking – seats himself.

"Hmm… I'll have a pin- No, some wi- No, looshkeer, please. I think that'd be good. Oh, and could I get one of those little sparkly umbrellas?" he asks, putting down a credit chip.

Jack looks him up and down. Despite the indecisiveness and the girly drink, he seems a much more attractive target than the sailor. Young, a bit clean-cut for a place like this, and overdressed in an outdated tweed suit that doesn’t go at all with the chin-long haircut – but definitely pretty, and nicely built.

When the barkeeper places the sparkling purple concoction in front of the stranger, Jack turns to the young man with his most winning smile. Matching his manners to the old-fashioned apparel, he politely holds out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness."

The stranger snorts, and takes a sip from his straw, ignoring the hand. "Don't start," he says in a tone that's more amused than the content of the utterance seems to justify.

"I was only saying hel-" The penny drops. "Doctor?"

The stranger beams brightly and puts down his glass. "Got it in one. So-" He looks at Jack's still-outstretched hand. "-are we really going to be this formal, or do I still rate a hug?"

Jack grins. He likes this new Doctor already. He opens his arms and pulls him close – a bit precarious since they're both still sitting on barstools. "You're all right then, except the obvious? I was worried about you."

The Doctor smiles ruefully. "Likewise. Bit weak, giving you a pretty boy's name and hoping that'd make things better. But by the time I finally decided to do something, I didn't have much time left."

Jack nods. "It's okay." Alonso and he had a few fun days together. He helped the boy find a new job – merchant cruiser with an excellent company that treats its employees well and doesn’t need to commit insurance fraud – and they kissed each other good-bye, not expecting to ever meet again. But the Doctor hadn't intended to find him a new long-term partner, anyway. "I got the real message. You know…" He grins. "The one you couldn't get yourself to say."

The Doctor flinches. For a moment, Jack thinks he may have pushed too far. Then the Time Lord nods, ducking his head. "Yes… did that a lot, in my last life. Made a gesture and expected people to fill in the rest while I ran away."

He looks up at Jack and takes a deep breath. "Here goes: I'm proud of you. I've always been proud of you. I know what happened on Earth, and I'm sorry I couldn't help. I approve of you, I approve of your choices, and you don't need my approval anyway, because you're your own man, and a much better man than I am in many respects." He stops abruptly, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Jack suspects that's exactly how he looks, too. He'd really thought that after everything they've been through, nothing the Doctor did could surprise him anymore. Goes to show – never underestimate a Time Lord.

Yes, he'd known that all this was implied in the Doctor's note – _His name is Alonso – and I encourage you to flirt with him, because that is who you are and I approve of who you are, so get on with your life_. But he would never, never in a million years – and yes, he will in all likelihood live that long, even though the Doctor might not – have expected to hear the Time Lord say even half of this aloud.

Jack swallows and tries to gather his wits. He can't let that speech go unacknowledged. He _needs_ to say something, convey how grateful he is, how overwhelmed, how- "Are you sure you're the Doctor?"

He wants to bite the words back the second he utters them, but it's too late. Fuck. The Doctor's going to leave in a huff now. And why the hell wouldn't he?

But the Doctor snorts, and the snort turns into a laugh. He puts a hand on Jack's arm and pats him reassuringly. "That I am, my boy. That much I'm sure of." He stops, and his gaze turns thoughtful. "I just don't know what that means anymore."

Jack gulps. "How long… how long ago…?"

The Doctor gestures dismissively. "Oh, just now. Regenerated, crashed the TARDIS, had some tea, slept off the regeneration sickness, fixed the TARDIS, took a shower, picked some new clothes, and came straight here."

"Any particular reason?" He thinks – hopes – that he knows, but he won't dare to believe it unless he hears the Doctor actually say it. And judging from the conversation so far, this Doctor just might.

The Doctor rolls his eyes. "Well, _you_. Didn't think that shoving Alonso at you – or vice-versa – would fix all of your problems… Or did it?"

Jack shakes his head, taking a long sip from his drink. It burns down his throat in a way that makes it nicely impossible to think. "No. I appreciate it, really I do, but…"

The Doctor nods. "Not enough."

Jack rubs his eyes. "To be honest with you, I don't think anything ever will be. I don't even know what I want anymore. I wanted to help people, defend the Earth – and look what I turned into."

"You had a terrible choice to make, and you made the best one possible. It was a fixed point. It was always going to end this way." The Doctor's voice is serious and full of regret.

"I did a terrible thing." It doesn’t matter if it was fixed or not. It was still him who did it. He murdered his own grandson while the boy's mother – his daughter! – watched, begging him not to. What kind of man would do that? He's been asking himself that ever since, and hasn't found an answer. He finishes his drink and bangs the glass on the bar, gesturing to the barkeep to refill it.

"Yes. But you had to." The Doctor's voice echoes with the depth of centuries. This is no empty consolation – the Time Lord is speaking absolute truth. "You did something terrible because not doing it would have been even more terrible."

Jack shrugs, grimacing. "So what does that make me?"

The Doctor shakes his head sadly. "I don't know. I don't know who I am, I don't know who you are, and I'm no longer going to pretend I have all the answers." He stops, cocks his head, and continues, "Though I think I can state with confidence that I'm much more open than I used to be. Wonder if that's a good thing."

The sudden change in demeanor forces a grin from Jack. "I vote yes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Hard to deal with someone who withholds-" Dammit. He just can't stop criticizing the Doctor today, can he?

The Doctor chuckles. "It's fine. I can be an ass sometimes. A lot of times. And apparently, I can even admit that now." He pats Jack's arm again – and it's not until that moment that Jack realizes the Doctor's hand has been resting on his all along. "So, Captain Jack Harkness – which, of course, isn't you real name any more than 'the Doctor' is mine, but I wager we're both too used to them to change them now – why don't we go and find out?"

"Find out…?"

"Who I am. Who you are. Pay your tab – the TARDIS is parked right outside! Travel, see the universe, run for our lives…"

Jack looks doubtful. Surely the Doctor's just deflecting again. "How would that tell us who we are?"

"Jack! My dear, dear Jack – it will tell you in a way that nothing else can. Seeing the universe means seeing yourself in the biggest mirror imaginable. What fills you with wonder? What scares you? What makes you run, what makes you fight? What do you fight for?" He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in a way that seems incongruous on this young face. "And, with endless possibilities, whom do you choose to be by your side?"

Jack returns the smile, puts a credit chip on the counter, and gets up. The Doctor laughs as he follows suit, throwing an arm around Jack's shoulders.

"Off into time and space?" Jack grins.

The Doctor whoops and slaps him on the back. "Geronimo!"

Whoever they are, wherever they're going – it'll definitely be better with two.

The End


End file.
